


Don't Stop It Before It Begins

by mischieviolet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Jealous Draco Malfoy, M/M, Miscommunication, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 10:12:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischieviolet/pseuds/mischieviolet
Summary: “I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.”“It’s not me though, is it?” Draco all but shouted, unable to stop himself.





	Don't Stop It Before It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Draco Tops Harry Fest in 2013. Just trying to organise my life a little and have all my work in one spot!
> 
> Prompt #99:  
> Prompt: Harry and Draco work together in the ministry, and have become close friends. Harry is openly gay, and Draco claims he is straight. When a new, good-looking wizard is assigned to their team and begins putting the moves on Harry, Draco begins to doubt his sexuality and his feelings for Harry.  
> Special Request(s) (optional): possessive/jealous!Draco; Harry secretly liking Draco but never acting upon it because he didn't think he had a chance; maybe a dose of angst
> 
> Original Author's Notes:  
> Dear **cottonrobin** \- thank you for the wonderful prompt! I’ve been reading Draco/Harry for years, but have never written anything Drarry – your prompt was just the inspiration I needed! I have tried to stick as close to your prompt as possible – I hope it satisfies! *shy wave, ducks and hides*  
>  Many, many, many thanks to the **dracotops_mods** for the many extensions – real life seemed to be very determined to make sure I never finished this! A big thanks to my fellow teacher Miss D for the beta... Any mistakes are my own!

Harry watched as Draco tugged at his navy blue tie in frustration. Long, slender fingers had worried Draco's normally impeccably styled hair; Harry noted this as Draco gestured madly about... Harry wasn't quite sure. Harry watched as Draco stopped his gesturing to fumble with a silver cigarette packet. Harry swallowed as Draco's cigarette was lit, and brought to a set of perfect lips...Perfect lips that were now smirking.

"Alright, who is he? _Where_ is he?"

Harry snapped out of his favourite pastime (noting how Draco was perfect in so many ways, as Draco ranted about his many frustrations) and almost knocked over his red wine glass in an attempt to make it look like he'd been listening the whole time, not paralyzed in awe while he stared at the perfect man opposite him.

"What?"

"I know that you don't find my venting on my Masters as interesting as you pretend to, Potter." Draco took a drag of his cigarette, and grey eyes scanned the cosy wine bar with a hint of amusement. "Which means the intent staring at me suggests you're thinking about something -- no, someone else and merely pretending you care that I got absolutely no sleep last night."

Harry grabbed his wine glass and took a gulp -- the spicy, almost bitter red succeeding in drowning the word vomit that was about to rush from Harry's mouth. It wouldn't do well to suggest to Draco that he very much did care that he got no sleep last night -- he just wished that he had been the cause of the tossing and turning (with gasping, sucking, thrust--)

"Seriously, Potter. I need to see who is taking your attention away from where it should be -- on me, at all times." Those perfect lips were smirking again, and Harry rolled his eyes, taking another sip from his wine glass.

"There's no one, Draco." Well, that was a lie, Harry thought, resisting the urge to scoff. _There's only you._

"Please. Just because I'm straight doesn't mean I'm not interested in your love life..." Draco glanced around the bar again, before fixing Harry with a stare that made him shift in his seat. "Especially as I'm starting to think perhaps sleep was not in the offing to you last night, either."

The waggling of eyebrows that accompanied Draco's smirk did cause Harry to grin, and chuck a beer-sodden coaster in Draco's direction.

"The only way you would be interested in my love life would be if your thesis was on a revolutionary new lube." Harry scoffed, watching as Draco pushed the offending coaster away from his perfectly tailored blazer sleeve with a finger. His finger paused and Harry looked up to see Draco arch an eyebrow.

"You're right. You just provided me with mental images I really didn't need, Potter... I'm not _that_ interested in your love life, I just pretend to be."

Harry scoffed at the familiar phrase and pushed aside that pull in his stomach at Draco's slight smile.

"I was actually thinking about who's going to be my partner now that Robards has approved your study leave."

Draco leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, looking thoughtful. Harry tried to ignore the way his blazer pulled slightly over his toned chest. "Perhaps you will no longer require a partner, Potter."

Harry knew Draco was referring to the rumours circulating their office that Robards was considering retirement, and Harry was next in line for the job. It was weird for Harry to think that Draco, Ron and himself would no longer be on the field together, and that he would be their boss. Although, Harry wondered if that indeed be the case. Ron had expressed interest in helping George at WWW and Draco had taken leave to finish his thesis and research project in Potions at a Masters level -- a new initiative promoted by the Ministry to keep young Aurors interested, and the Ministry accountable.

"No thanks to you and your bloody thesis," Harry replied, glancing down at his worn gold wristwatch. While it was only seven thirty, he felt exhausted. Draco had insisted they go for a drink after finishing work and Harry smiled to himself, thinking that perhaps Draco loved an excuse to drink wine as much as Harry loved accepting the sometimes ridiculous excuses to join him, to spend time with the man who had been not only his Auror partner for the last three years, but now, a close friend. _And that's all he'll be, Harry_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione reminded him.

Today's excuse had been merely that it was Friday, and Harry found that he couldn't argue with that. He pushed his wine glass towards Draco, who was re-filling his own. He couldn't quite pin point when this ridiculous crush had developed. He only knew that while Draco had become a close friend, he knew something was up when he had developed feelings for the man that he had never had for Ron, or his Gryffindor dorm mates. They had formed a tentative friendship in Auror training, had become roommates for a while as Draco hunted for a flat that meet his very exact specifications, and had become Auror partners after Ron took time off to spend time with Hermione and Rose. Harry, through working with Draco, drinking with Draco, living with Draco -- conceded that he couldn't image his life without the former Slytherin. He could almost image that they were together -- they spent as much time together as couples perhaps did. Of course it would mean that Draco had suddenly decided to switch teams, which Harry knew deep down would never, ever happen. Draco's commitment to his work and now further study was the only barrier keeping Lucius and Narcissa from marrying him off tomorrow.

Draco was interested in Harry's love life, ever since Harry had come out, but that was just Draco being a mate. And he in turn was expected to be interested in the many women that caught Draco's eye. One of which was currently sipping sparkling wine from a long flute at the bar, watching Draco pour the deep red liquid into Harry's glass with a sly smile. Harry watched as cool, grey eyes flicked over to where she stood, before returning back to Harry.

"You could have joined me," Draco said, pushing Harry's glass back towards him. "A Masters in Defence Against the Dark Arts wouldn't have hurt you."

Harry laughed at this and tapped his scar. "I think I attained my Masters in that without having to do a thesis, thank you."

"Prat." Draco smiled back, and raised his wine glass to Harry, and taking a long sip of his (and now Harry's) favourite Cab Sav. Harry leant back in his own chair, watching as the corner of Draco's mouth was pulled up into a slight smirk, and grey eyes flicked back over to the woman. Harry found himself staring at her as well. She was tall, slender and stunning -- they usually were.

"I didn't think blondes where your type," Harry said, pulling his wine glass closer. "Don't you usually go for brunettes?"

Draco's gaze flew back to Harry, and the slight smirk had developed into a grin. "Why Harry -- anyone would think you'd been keeping track?"

Taking a large gulp of wine was all Harry could do to stop himself admitting just how true that was.

"So, what are we doing tomorrow night?" Harry said quickly, changing he subject and feeling uncomfortable at the grin that was on Draco's handsome face. Sometimes he got the feeling like Draco knew why he hadn't had a boyfriend for three years, and why he hardly looked at another wizard, let alone shoot flirtatious looks across a bar at one. "Want to come round and watch a movie? I think Kreacher has been killing himself over the opportunity to fatten you up again."

"You can't blame me for that fact that Kreacher prefers my company to yours, Potter." Harry watched Draco finger another cigarette in the silver case they were resting in, rather suggestively. Harry followed Draco's gaze to the attractive woman that had caught his eye before. Harry felt a stab of jealousy, knowing that the rather suggestive motion was always for someone else, never him. _You can't take it personally Harry_ , Hermione's voice was back. _The man's straight._

"My relationship with Kreacher is just fine, thank you," Harry said, tearing his eyes away from Draco's subtle flirting, and immediately regretted his choice of words as a rather uncharacteristic snort was ripped from Draco. However embarrassed he was feeling, Harry was happy to have Draco's attention back to him.

"So fine in fact I'm expecting an engagement party invitation any day now," Draco looked thoroughly amused. "Seriously, Potter, when was the last time you had a shag? Had a relationship? You can't be happy going home to a senile house elf."

Harry had to bite his tongue to stop himself from reminded Draco that he had lived with Harry for some time, and that he hardly ever did go home to Kreacher alone -- Draco was always finding some excuse to come over after work, and on the weekends, except for Sundays.

"You demand all my attention, how on earth would I be able to manage you and a relationship?" Harry said, feeling proud of himself when Draco almost preened at the words. "I'd have to get rid of you first, and Merlin knows I've been trying."

"Bullshit," Draco said, smiling anyway. "A movie sounds great, Potter. If you could somehow slip it to Kreacher that I'd love a meat pie of some sort..."

Harry watched as Draco trailed off, his eyes back on the woman, who had mouthed something at him. Not feeling like watching Draco flirt with someone else, Harry drained his glass and gathered his belongings. This drew Draco's attention back to him and earned him a smirk.

"Off to go find someone other than me to bring home? Kreacher will be so disappointed," he said, grey eyes amused.

"I'm starting to think you're the one who's in a relationship with him," Harry said, buttoning up his coat. "And yes. It's a lot easier when I don't have you as company. See you tomorrow."

Tomorrow, Harry would make up that his usual gay club was lacking that night, not that he went back home to Grimmauld Place, where the only company was Kreacher, and the hot action came from a cup of tea.

* * *

Draco couldn't help but think that this year was going to be full of changes. Excitement licked at him, but he couldn't quite embrace it fully. He wasn't a big fan of change -- he liked his routines, he liked things predictable, perfect.

Drinking at The Heritage on Friday nights with Harry had become routine. It was a perfect end the working week, which as an Auror was either stressful or tedious. The way Harry would try and match Draco drink for drink and pretend that he wasn't sloshed was routine. Draco could drink wine like it was water -- a Malfoy trait. He knew Harry preferred a dry cider, or at least had done when they first strayed into the friendship territory. Lately, Harry favoured red wine. Perfect. The way they alternated ordering between the French platter for Draco's tastes, and the Italian platter for Harry's, was routine. The fact that Harry seemed to let him bully him into the French platter more often than the Italian was perfect, really.

They had established a routine in the short time they had been partners that Draco liked. He would pick up coffee in the morning, Harry at morning tea. They both loathed the cafeteria. They shared the paperwork and they excelled at fieldwork. Draco almost felt guilty that _he_ was the one changing things.

He had jumped at the chance to accept the Ministry's offer of providing further education, a Masters that would prove favourable should a promotion arise. The fact that Aurors could now have a specialization was all part of the new 'revolutionary' Ministry of Magic. Draco couldn't help but think Granger-Weasley was behind the idea, she had certainly persuaded him into it. So Draco had selected the Master of Potions and began taking units that would prepare him for his upcoming thesis and research project. He wasn't sure he wanted to be an Auror forever, either. The fact that his parents approved of this plan, and agreed to talk marriage after he had finished was just perfect.

While he had a month off, paid, he was still required to attend work everyday, and complete his work within the Ministry. Draco was happy for this requirement -- there were far too many distractions in his flat, and he got to see who Harry's partner would be for the next month.

Draco hoped Harry's new partner would be a rookie straight out of training, who would be so hopelessly impressed by Harry that he would be indeed hopeless, and Draco wouldn't have to worry about being upstaged. Harry would truly miss Draco as his partner, begging him to return to the Auror Department once his leave was up.

As he walked into the Auror Department on Monday morning, clutching a tray with two flat whites, he looked for a nervous rookie sitting at the new cubicle that had been erected next to Harry's. He couldn't wait to see the look on Harry's face when Robards introduced his new partner -- he could image clearly how Harry's face would contort as he tried to hide his displeasure, and aimed for polite indifference. The Ministry liked to place rookies with Harry, who was, Draco secretly admitted, a great mentor. Harry would secretly admit that he hated it. Draco smirked as he set down the mountain of research and parchment he clutched in one arm with his flat white on his desk, and moved to place Harry's on his desk. He noticed Harry's worn, black leather satchel on his chair, which indicated he was already at work. Draco glanced around the department, nodding his 'Good Morning' to fellow Aurors, wondering where Harry was. He would normally be swinging on his chair, waiting for Draco and his flat white, ready to tell Draco what mischief Teddy Lupin had caused at dinner Sunday evening.

Draco sipped his coffee through a frown. The changes had begun.

The door to the Head Auror's office opened, and the sound of loud laughter came through before the occupants. Draco looked up to see Harry step through, followed by Robards, and two unfamiliar men. Draco knew he was staring, unable to ignore the fact that Harry hadn't looked for -- no, seen him, and waved at him with his usual lop-sided grin. In fact, he hadn't even glanced around the department. He was too busy staring at one of the unfamiliar men.

Draco felt a prick of... something unfamiliar. He and Harry had only been partners for a couple of months, friends for three years, roommates for a year, but Draco had forgotten what it was like to share Harry's attention. With Weasley and Granger-Weasley together, and now with a child, Harry often only saw them once a week, and this usually happened when Draco visited his parents. No sharing was required. Draco did not excel at sharing; in fact the only thing he shared well was wine. He set his coffee down and studied the man who was, maybe unknowingly, monopolizing Harry's attention.

If Draco were gay, this new man would definitely be his thing. Tall, lean and slender -- he was all hard lines, a set jaw, hair as dark as ink. Blue eyes were on Harry, a smile on his handsome face. Draco could appreciate a handsome man who looked after himself, and could almost understand why Harry looked so... Draco frowned, trying to figure out exactly how Harry looked. The man smoothed down the front of his robes, eyes finally leaving Harry to glance at the other unfamiliar man who was talking with Robards. Draco noted a perfectly tailored robe, and a bright red tie with an unfamiliar logo adorning the bottom of the tie in silver. The other unfamiliar man wore a similar tie.

"I really should be heading back to the International Portkey," the older man said to Robards, shifting his briefcase from his right to left hand. "Good luck, Jackson. Make sure to owl occasionally, I know what you're like. Remember, you belong to New Zealand first and foremost."

Robards laughed, and _Jackson_ grinned back, with a slight shrug.

Draco frowned at this... New Zealand?

"He's in good hands, Stockinger," Robards said, placing a hand on the older man's shoulder and glancing in Harry's direction. "Let's leave Jackson to settle in with Harry. This way, when you're ready."

The two New Zealanders shook hands, and Draco quickly sat down, and began half-heartedly setting out his work. No doubt Harry would be over any minute to introduce this _Jackson_ fellow to Draco, and Draco did not want it to look like he'd been studying Harry's new partner, rather than his Potions research. Draco looked up through his fringe to see Harry place a hand on the small of _Jackson's_ back, and guide him out of the department.

He sat back in his chair, watching Harry's retreating back, and tried not to huff in disappointment. Their routine had definitely changed. Harry's flat white lay untouched, a rookie _Jackson_ most definitely was not, and Draco hadn't even had an opportunity to roll his eyes at the tales of his cousin's knack for mischief. Instead, he focused on the uncomfortable churning of his stomach and wondered why milk suddenly didn't agree with him.

 

* * *

 

Harry couldn't believe his luck. He'd woken that morning absolutely dreading the day ahead. He'd walked into the Auror Department with heavy feet, dreading the fact that there would be a nervous rookie waiting for him, and a smirking Draco up to his eyes in Potions research. Instead, there was definitely no rookie, and no Draco. Instead, Robards was talking to two men Harry didn't know. Robards had looked thrilled.

"Ah, Harry!" he had said, gesturing madly at Harry to hurry his way over. Dumping his satchel on his chair, Harry's feet suddenly didn't feel so heavy. He was intrigued, noticing the Ministry of Magic for New Zealand's emblem on both men's red ties. He felt their eyes swivel up to his scar, yet the younger of the two shortly settled his gaze on Harry's face. With one pair of eyes on his scar, and the other studying his face, Harry felt nervous. What was going on?

"Harry, let me introduce you to Bruce Stockinger, head of the Auror Department New Zealand." Robards placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry smiled as he shook Stockinger's chubby hand. "And this is Jackson Maskew, your new partner."

Harry took his hand and smiled back at Jackson. Jackson was taller than he, and even looked slightly older. Harry found himself wishing Draco were here to realise his new partner was definitely not a rookie. Robards led them into his office, where it was explained to Harry that because Draco's leave was short term, they didn't see much point pairing him with a new partner from Britain. Instead, this new, innovative Ministry had decided an exchange program would be much more beneficial for everyone involved.

Jackson Maskew was twenty-eight, and Bruce Stockinger's protégé, next in line for the job for when Stockinger retired at the end of the year. Harry couldn't help but scoff inwardly at the irony of the situation as he watched Robards, Stockinger and Jackson discuss the details of his exchange.

Harry couldn't also ignore that someone up there, fate, whatever was guiding his life, hated him. This was the second partner he had been paired with that he just so happened to find attractive. No doubt Jackson was straight too, though Harry saw no wedding ring. Of course, that meant nothing, and Harry knew this was going to be a long month. Between missing and pining after Draco, Harry now had to work with this strong, confident, handsome man. He wasn't quite Harry's type -- which was blond, pointy and pale, or as close enough as he could to said type, but there was something about Jackson...

Half an hour later and the four men were outside Robard's office, Stockinger preparing to leave his protégé. Harry glanced briefly at his desk to see Draco engrossed in his work at his own desk, and Harry suddenly realized Stockinger was shaking Jackson's hand and leaving with Robards toward the International Floo Network, leaving him alone with Jackson.

"The Ministry here is massive," Jackson said, glancing around the Auror Department, and Harry added the accent to the 'What is it about Jackson'-list. "We're not even in the same building, when I think about it. Most departments are spread about town."

"How does that work?" Harry asked.

Jackson's grin was added to the list as he leaned in to whisper to Harry, "It doesn't."

Harry grinned back, and decided Jackson should at least see the Ministry and get the grand tour of the place where he'd be spending the next month. He also knew Hermione was in for the day, and would definitely be as interested in Jackson as Harry was, albeit for different reasons.

Harry knew he hadn't done the Ministry justice as he rushed through the different departments and levels, yet he didn't want to miss Hermione, when he had already missed his usual morning coffee and daily criticism from Draco about how his tie did not match his shirt. Jackson had just finished telling Harry about some ridiculous pranks he had pulled on first year Aurors in his younger days when they reached Hermione's office. She was standing at her bookshelf, flipping through a book, looking determined to find something. She looked good; despite the fact that Rose had not inherited her father's ability for falling asleep and staying asleep.

"Morning, Hermione," Harry said, knocking on the door and gesturing for Jackson to step in before him. She whirled around and smiled seeing Harry, before looking at Jackson with a faintly surprised look.

"Harry." She smiled, putting down her book and coming over to kiss his cheek, and stand next to him as Harry introduced Jackson.

"This is Jackson Maskew, my new partner. He's here on exchange from New Zealand." Harry watched as Hermione's eyebrows shot up, and she seized his hand, immediately shooting Jackson questions about the Ministry in New Zealand which he answered with an easy grin. A short rap at the door drew their attention to Hermione's office door, where Draco stood, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"You nagged at me through a memo, Granger?" he said, and Harry got the feeling he was pointedly not looking at Harry or Jackson. Hermione rolled her eyes, no doubt at the use of her maiden name, and walked to her desk to pick up a stack of books on the edge of her desk.

"I told you to take these last week," she said, thrusting the stack of thick, ancient looking books in Draco's direction. "They'll be an invaluable help to your research. Come in, we're just getting to know Harry's new partner. Have you met Jackson, Draco?"

Harry didn't miss the pointed look she seemed to be giving Draco, nor did he miss the beginning of a sneer on Draco's part. Harry frowned slightly, wondering why adolescent Draco seemed to be making a return today. What could have possibly gone wrong in the few hours he and Draco had been at work? Hermione didn't seem to be taking it Draco's behaviour personally, and sat on the edge of her desk watching him.

"Unfortunately not," Draco said shortly, giving Harry a pointed look of his own. He turned in Jackson's direction to give him a tight smile. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry knew Draco well enough to know he was pleased there was currently a stack of books in his arms that prevented him from shaking Jackson's hand. Harry also knew Draco well enough to realise that perhaps the blond was feeling a little threatened, as Jackson was anything but a bumbling rookie. Hermione pushed herself off her desk to gather a few more books form her shelf, giving Draco a quick look that suggested he shouldn't go anywhere.

"Take these as well, Draco. I know Penrose likes as many resources as you can find." She placed about three more thick books on top of the five Draco was already carrying. Harry smiled as Draco rolled his eyes and shifted them in his arms. He was about to walk out the office when Jackson, who had been staring at the books in Draco's arms, spoke.

"Are you doing your Masters in Potions?" he asked Draco, still reading one of the titles.

Draco smiled tightly again. "Yes...For some insane reason, now that I think about it. Someone nagged at me until it was all I could do to say yes."

He was giving Hermione a pointed look, but his smile relaxed slightly. Jackson laughed. Hermione looked smug, as yes, she had pushed Draco and was clearly not regretting it.

"They were right to," Jackson said, winking at Hermione. "I don't think I'd have been considered for Head Auror without a Masters back home."

"How interesting," Draco said, turning slightly to Harry, clearly remembering their conversation Friday night. Harry stared at him hoping that somehow he could tell Draco telepathically to stop being a git.

"A month here away from your family back in New Zealand must have been quite a tough decision to make, Jackson," Hermione said, settling back on the edge of her desk.

Jackson shrugged, "Not really. Stockinger wouldn't really let me pass on the offer, I'm not married, have no children..."

"No girlfriend?" Hermione asked, a little too innocently, Harry thought. He noticed Draco waiting for Jackson's answer.

"No _boyfriend_ ," Jackson said, grin never faltering. In fact, Harry could have sworn it grew wider.

"This is too good," Draco muttered under his breath, but Harry caught it and frowned at him. The fluttering he felt in his stomach at Jackson's comment vanished as quickly as it appeared. Draco motioned with his chin towards the books in his arms as he spoke to Hermione. "Is this all, Granger? I must get back to it. I'm sure I'll see you around, Jackson."

Jackson waved, and Hermione engaged him in some conversation about his family. Harry took that opportunity to follow Draco, grabbing his elbow.

"Why are you being a git?" Harry muttered to him, as Draco stopped and turned back to face him. He looked at Harry's tie and Harry waited for a comment, but it never came.

"Am I?" Draco said, feigning innocence. Harry didn't like the smirk that graced Draco's face as he leant in to mutter to Harry, "I didn't know brunettes were your type... Don't you usually go for blonds?"

Harry knew his words were being thrown back at him, but Draco stalked off before he could answer. He threw Harry another smirk over his shoulder before he disappeared around a corner.

* * *

Draco was starting to regret his Masters. He was definitely regretting his choice not to curse Granger-Weasley's mouth shut when she planted all those wonderful ideas about what a Masters could bring his career into his head. He was regretting not pushing Robards into letting him move somewhere quieter whilst on study leave. His body was regretting the lack of physical work he hadn't done in the past week.

He had hardly seen Harry this week. He and Jackson were getting on famously -- so well in fact that Robards had sent them on a case for three days that required them to stay undercover at a hotel close to the case. Draco snorted as he wondered exactly what Harry and Jackson had thought up as their cover story. Harry had often suggested the boyfriend routine with a sly grin when _they_ had been partners undercover, and it had almost always earned him a hard shove from Draco in return. He was sure Jackson would reward Harry's suggestion to play boyfriends with a hard shove onto a bed.

Realising that he'd read the same line four times, Draco threw his quill down, trying desperately not to think about Jackson and Harry on a case together, let alone in a bed together. What was wrong with him? Harry was a professional, and Draco doubted anything was going on, but he had to admit that this situation was just too good to be true. In truth, Jackson was too good to be true. Draco had watched him the remainder of Monday, even when Harry kept him away from Draco thanks to his flawless performance of being a git. He didn't know why he had acted the way he had. Draco had been all about making new contacts in the last couple of years, but there was just something about Jackson.

The man had a grin permanently fixed on his tanned face. He had no concept of personal space, at least where Harry was concerned. He spoke quietly, which caused Harry to lean in close to make sure he caught what was being said. From what he had gathered, Jackson was the eldest of two younger brothers and a sister. He loved animals, as Draco had noted when he walked past Jackson's new desk and spotted pictures of two handsome black Labradors. He loved his job, and obviously was very good at it. And he loved men. Draco could see how Harry could marry this man and live happily ever after.

His black and silver wrist watch caught the light, and Draco sighed happily as he realised it was four thirty on a Friday afternoon. In about an hour's time he would be meeting Harry at The Heritage, working his way through his favourite red, and then hopefully working his charms on a beautiful woman, as was customary on Friday nights. He also hoped Harry was feeling guilty enough for neglecting him all week that he would let Draco bully him into ordering the French platter.

The door to Robards' office opened, and Harry and Jackson came out laughing. Draco pushed aside the feeling in his stomach that was becoming all too familiar these days, and looked up to see Harry give Jackson a playful shove, and Jackson's grin grow wider.

"Don't forget The Heritage tonight, Potter, and don't you dare be late -- you know what it gets like after six," Draco drawled loud enough for Harry to hear, his eyes cast downwards on his research. He hoped he gave the air of being terribly busy, as well as nonchalant. He looked up at Harry to see a grin on his face.

"I won't be a minute past five forty-five, Draco," Harry said, shifting the thick case file from one arm to another. "I wouldn't want to give you anything to hold against me so I agree to order the French platter again."

Draco hoped that the clenching of his gut was due to the disappointment of not being able to have French food tonight, and not disappointment due to Harry turning to explain to Jackson how great The Heritage was as they left the Auror Department to do God-knows-what. He began to gather his notes and place them into their respective files, as he had to meet with Penrose to show his progress this week. He hoped he didn't bump into the Magnificent Duo on his way.

An hour and a bit later, Draco stalked into the familiar and comforting setting of The Heritage, absolutely seething at Penrose's assumption that he had been distracted this week, and it was showing in his work. All he wanted was his favourite red, his favourite food and the undivided attention Harry gave him when he was in one of these moods. Draco's steps slowed, however, when he realised that all that he wanted was not in the offing tonight.

Harry sat side by side with Jackson, facing the entrance to The Heritage. He looked like he was in the middle of explaining something to Jackson, who was nodding, listening intently. Draco couldn't help but notice Jackson's lack of personal boundaries once again. He also couldn't help but notice two pints of cider in front of them. Feeling suddenly warm, he began shrugging off his light blue blazer, and made his way over to the two men.

Hearing words that sounded suspiciously like 'war' and 'Horcrux', Draco cleared his throat to announce to Harry that he was here, and it was time to send Jackson on his way.

"Draco!" Harry smiled, and looked down at his watch. "Told you we wouldn't be late."

It took all the will power Draco could muster not to remind Harry that the invitation to _their_ usual Friday nights did not include Jackson, as well as the will to resist the urge to dump that cider Harry was drinking over his head and demand for their usual red. It was then that Draco saw a bottle of red that did not look familiar, and a lone glass set at the stool opposite Harry. Draco draped his blazer over the back of the stool, feeling out of place, and unsettled by it. Harry was still smiling as he watched Draco eye the bottle of red warily.

"It's from New Zealand," Harry said, reaching for the bottle to pour Draco a glass. Draco had always wanted to try a red from Marlborough, New Zealand, but with his own desire, and money.

"I see," he said, a small, tight smile in Jackson's direction. "Cheers."

He took a sip, as to not hurt Harry's feelings, who was watching him hopefully. He'd have to wait until they were alone to tell Harry that just because _he_ had fallen in love with everything from New Zealand, Draco was not required to. The wine wasn't bad, in fact it was quite drinkable, but really that wasn't the point.

"Harry was just telling me about how you were at school together," Jackson said, reaching for his pint.

Draco smiled tightly once again. He sometimes liked to think that their bitter rivalry at school had never happened. It was quite easy to, considering how well they got on nowadays.

"Enemies, hey?"

Draco looked at Harry, hopefully telepathically getting across that that piece of information could have easily been omitted. It had taken them years to get to this point, it had taken Harry and Jackson a week. "Well, hopefully my dearest enemy hasn't painted me completely black."

Jackson laughed and shook his head, and Harry grinned at him a little sheepishly.

"Jackson wouldn't believe most of it," Harry said, tracing a line in the condensation on his pint glass. "He said you were so charming, it was hard to believe."

Draco felt himself bristle at what was an underhand jab about his behaviour on Monday, put decided to swallow it down, along with the New Zealand wine. They all fell silent at this, the noise from the other patrons of the bar enveloping them. Draco contemplated feigning a headache and leaving, his heart suddenly not in wanting to drink and be chummy with Harry's new partner. However, he also didn't want to give Harry more reason to be annoyed at him for. He swallowed his pride and directed a question at Jackson, ignoring Harry.

"How are you finding England, Jackson?"

"I'm loving it, hey," Jackson said, grin in place. "Weather is pretty similar, loving the accents, and your Ministry is much more organised. Night life doesn't seem too bad either..." He shot Harry a grin, and Draco was obviously not privileged enough to be in on an inside joke. "I could be persuaded to stay."

Draco didn't quite know what to say, or rather, didn't trust himself to be civil in his reply, so he merely nodded.

"Or perhaps," Jackson continued, "I could persuade Harry to join me in New Zealand."

Draco almost spat out the mouthful of red he had just taken. He was not doing his Masters for Harry to up and leave. That Masters and Harry's sheer brilliance were going to make them contenders for any and every promotion possible. "Why would you want to do that?" he asked Harry, who raised his eyebrows slightly in response.

"Why not?" Harry responded, a little defensively.

"Shacklebolt will kill you, for starters. As would Weasley, Granger-Weasley and your millions of worshippers."

It was almost as if Harry was waiting for Draco to add another reason, then merely shrugged and traced a pattern in the condensation of his glass. "I'm up for a change."

Before Draco could reply that becoming Head Auror was a change, Jackson butted in. "I'm sure you could do the same exchange I'm on, Harry. It'd be brilliant. Or you could just share my position... we're very similar as it is."

The wink Jackson threw in Harry's direction had Draco reaching for his packet of cigarettes and his wine glass. Not trusting himself to keep every opinion he had of Jackson and his ideas to himself, he decided that nicotine and alcohol would surely help erase the mental image he suddenly had of Harry and Jackson certainly sharing a compromising position.

"Please excuse me," Draco said, shrugging his blazer back on and grabbing the cigarettes and his wine, "I've just seen someone I must catch up with."

Jackson smiled at him and nodded, while Harry shot him a curious look. Walking towards the courtyard the bar had outside, Draco knew Harry was still watching him. He placed the glass of Marlborough red on the bar, and left it as he made his way outside. Thankfully the outside bar had his favourite _French_ red that would help him forget everything Kiwi. Two cigarettes and two glasses of red later, Draco had calmed down, but not completely. Who was Jackson to just waltz in, change everything, charm Harry and even suggest to Harry to consider just up and leaving England, his friends, his job... Draco shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and scanned the courtyard for someone beautiful to distract him. After fifteen minutes of no such luck, Draco was considering faking a better offer for the remainder of his Friday night and leave Harry and Jackson to bond. The sight of Harry walking out into the Courtyard, without Jackson, had Draco hoping this horrible evening could be salvaged.

"There you are," Harry said, watching Draco pull out another cigarette from the silver packet. "I was beginning to think you'd left."

"Not yet," Draco said, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting in. Silence settled between them as he took a long drag, and then exhaled, hoping the smoke would bother Harry enough to send him back inside to Jackson. While Harry hadn't necessarily done anything wrong, Draco couldn't shake the angriness he was feeling towards him.

"I think the jet lag had finally gotten to Jackson," Harry said lightly and Draco could tell he was trying to talk his way through the awkwardness.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm surprised it didn't hit sooner," he said, taking a sip of the beautifully French wine in his possession. "He must be keen."

Draco sighed at the way Harry's eyebrow arched. "To see London, of course."

Harry was still watching him suspiciously as he said, "Is everything okay? You're being awfully quiet this evening... I could tell there was a rant brewing in you when you first arrived."

Draco shrugged half-heartedly again. "Penrose was being a complete arse about the work I'd done this week. I was looking forward to having your undivided attention as I ranted about the oaf. And perhaps then I'd ask about how your case went."

This caused Harry to smile, and Draco was glad. The feeling was tense between them, and Draco knew he hadn't been a saint this evening, or earlier in the week, but Harry hadn't been perfect either.

"I hope you didn't mind that I invited Jackson tonight, he seemed really interested in the place." Harry shivered slightly and pulled his coat tighter around his chest as a chilly breeze swept through the courtyard. And they were back to talking about Jackson.

Draco snorted, unable to help himself. "I doubt it was this place that he was interested in, Potter."

Harry's mouth dropped open slightly. "What are you saying?"  
Draco smirked, bringing his cigarette up to his lips and noting that Harry's gaze was following the white stick. "I'm saying that the other Aurors go down to the Leaky on a Friday, which you have to admit always sounds like they cause a ruckus, and have fun doing so. Why not send Jackson there?"

"You are bothered by the fact that he is here this evening," Harry said, arms crossing over his chest, eyebrows shooting upwards. "Unbelievable."

Draco avoided his gaze. "I am not bothered... I just feel I cannot have a proper conversation with you. I was just simply looking forward to catching up with you, and not having to hear about New Zealand every two minutes."

He fiddled with a cigarette that was peaking out of his packet, and it was all Draco could do to avoid Harry's eyes. He knew he sounded like a child, and he could detect a hint of laughter in Harry's reply.

"You're not jealous of Jackson, are you? There's nothing wrong with New Zealand."

Draco bristled at Harry's amused tone, and he felt himself getting angry with Harry for not realising that he was all about Jackson and New Zealand, and that not everyone was required to love the guy.

"Just because you are currently in love with all things New Zealand, Potter, does not mean the rest of us are required to be. The wine was shit, by the way. As was Jackson's opinion about you going over there."

Draco knew he was being unreasonable, but he often was on Friday nights and Harry usually poured him another glass of red and told him to get over it. Tonight, however, he frowned in response, and began to get up to leave. Draco thought he heard Harry mutter something about being an arse.

"We've both had a long week, I think," Harry said. "I'll see you tomorrow for Blaise's thing?"

Draco had almost forgotten that Blaise had organised a celebratory event for his eagerly awaited promotion. "Of course," he said stiffly, avoiding Harry's gaze. "Come to mine, we'll have a few drinks first."

"Right," was all Harry said before turning and leaving Draco in the courtyard. His Friday nights had changed already -- he hardly had a buzz from the wine, Harry had left angry at him, and no witch had caught his eye. He had to admit, it was the thought of Harry being angry with him that unsettled him the most.

Draco half expected Harry not to come to his apartment before Blaise's, if he was being honest with himself. He'd spent the day doing research, and planning his thesis. His living room was a mess -- papers were strewn everywhere, books were lying half open on the couch, as well as the floor. He tried not to think of previous night, his behaviour, Harry's obvious growing attraction for Jackson, and vice versa.

He'd got dressed at around six, selecting dark jeans and a dark shirt, with a deep purple blazer, his favourite. He was having a smoke on his balcony when he heard a crack of Apparition inside his living room.

"Draco?"

Harry. "On the balcony," Draco said, not daring to turn around. He was still wary that Harry was going to berate him for his behaviour last night towards Jackson, then tell him he could go to Blaise's alone and he was going to do something with Jackson instead.

"And I'm meant to be the gay one," he heard a lightly amused voice say next to him. Harry was smiling, giving his blazer a look of appreciation. Draco gave Harry a lazy glare, in turn taking in what Harry was wearing, happy to see he was wearing a white shirt with a contrasting navy blue collar -- a Christmas present from Draco -- and dark pants. Harry seemed to notice Draco's silent appraisal and smiled when he said nothing. He simply placed his hands on the railing and took in a deep breath, despite the cigarette smoke tainting the air.

"This view is great," Harry said. The cityscape was visible in the reflection from his glasses, as he scanned the streets below. "Why don't we spend more time at yours?"

The balcony was hardly a balcony, in fact, it was more like a ledge that Draco had managed to place a small table and some plants on. He had spent so long living with Harry because he'd been trying to find an apartment that had something close to a balcony, and finally had to settle for this. Draco's apartment was white and silver, with dark floorboards. He often felt cold and lonely here, especially after living with Harry.

"What, and hardly see Kreacher?" he said, putting out his cigarette. "How could I possibly do that to him?"

Harry rolled his eyes, still looking out at the view. Draco was glad to note the awkwardness slowly dissipating between them, and stepped back inside, pulling Harry in with him. "We need to start drinking, Potter. There's no way I'm making it through the speeches sober."

The sooner they got drinking, the better, Draco thought. He wasn't going to apologise for his behaviour, and he certainly wasn't going to ask about Jackson, or even give Harry the chance to bring him up.

"Hermione and Ron are feeling brave enough to leave Rose with Molly." Harry accepted his drink from Draco and saluted him in thanks.

"Great," Draco said, taking a long sip of the vodka, soda and lime he had made for them. "So I have to make it through Blaise's speech and Granger telling me off for being out instead of studying."

"I won't let her ruin your fun." Harry said in mock seriousness, the grin betraying him.

Draco often felt Weasley and Harry encouraged Granger-Weasley to rip him to shreds. "See to it that you do or I'm telling her about your plans involving New Zealand." He hadn't meant to bring it up, but it was something that had bothered him last night, and obviously was still bothering him.

Harry looked at him for a couple of seconds then seemed to swallow whatever he was going to say with the rest of his drink. "Come on," he said instead, pushing his empty glass towards Draco. "Less talking, more drinking."

It was a challenge that Draco accepted with such a seriousness he wondered how he and Harry were still standing hours later. They'd congratulated Blaise many times, made the rounds with polite conversation which were so much easier with each other and a drink in hand. They'd danced with female friends, and dared each other to shots. Harry hadn't mentioned Jackson, and Draco had almost forgotten he existed. Almost.

"Hermione tells me Jackson is positively dreamy, Harry," Ginny was saying to Harry as they got more drinks at the bar. Draco almost spat out the sip of his drink he had jus taken, watching as Harry blushed slightly. "Where is he tonight?"

"Who cares?" Draco said loudly, paying the barman and shoving a drink towards _Harry. More drinking, less talking_ was the mantra Draco had adopted. Less talking about Jackson, anyway.

"Robards took him out to dinner," Harry said with a fleeting look towards Draco, before turning back to Ginny. "I did mention tonight but he said he wouldn't want to intrude, plus he's exhausted."

Draco frowned at the news that Harry had invited Jackson to an event that wasn't even his to invite people to. He hadn't wanted just Draco's company tonight, after all. He pushed the pang in his stomach aside, taking another long sip of his drink.

"What a shame," Draco heard the silky voice of Blaise join them, his arm thrown around Draco's shoulders. "I'd love to have met the man who dared take Draco's place."

Draco shot him a look and Ginny smirked at Blaise. Harry mirrored Draco's actions in busying himself with his drink.

"How do you find working with a new partner?" Blaise asked Harry, ignoring Draco's attempts to get out form under his arm.

Exasperated at Blaise, and the fact that they were talking about Jackson, Draco cried out, "Oh who cares! He's not me."

Three pairs of eyes were on him, Harry's and Blaise's amused, Ginny's suspicious.

"No, he's not, is he? For starters, he's openly gay, I've heard," she said.

Draco had heard enough. He tossed back the rest of his drink, slammed it on the bar and grabbed Harry's arm. "I need a smoke -- let's go explore our sexualities outside."

Harry laughed as he allowed Draco to pull him into the outside beer garden, packed with smokers and those who needed a break from the stuffiness inside the bar. He looked over his shoulder to see Blaise smirk and Ginny frown after them. He really couldn't have cared less. All he wanted was drink and have fun with Harry, and not be reminded that come Monday Harry would go back to being an Auror, with Jackson, and Draco would go back to being replaced. He lit his cigarette, offering one to Harry, who declined.

"And what did you mean by coming outside to explore our sexualities?" Harry said, watching Draco with a raised eyebrow.

"Absolutely nothing," Draco replied, exhaling smoke as he did so. "Just wanted to get away from yet another fan of Jackson. What's to explore -- you're openly gay, and I am openly... not."

Draco almost frowned at the way Harry's amused expression faltered, and he looked away, back inside the bar. Sometime had passed in silence between them. Suddenly, Harry was laughing and placed his drink on a table, and rushed back inside, forgetting all about his Scotch and Coke, and Draco. Draco made an indignant sound after Harry, who didn't even look back. Draco saw him pull a man toward Ginny and Blaise, and Draco realised with disdain that it was Jackson. He almost dropped his cigarette, but finished it begrudgingly. He took the time to take in the scene -- Jackson, who was dressed almost as well as Draco was, shaking hands with Blaise and then with Ginny. He then saw Ron and Hermione join the group, Hermione looking thrilled at seeing Jackson again. This made Draco drop his cigarette and step on it with his boot, before grabbing Harry's drink and striding back inside.

Jackson caught his eye and grinned, and Draco nodded back, pushing Harry's drink into his hands. He noticed the two men were very close to each other, their arms brushing each other's if they moved.

"How nice of you to join us, Jackson," Draco said, slotting in between Harry and Blaise. "I see Robards didn't manage to bore you to death."

"I can't believe he took you to that restaurant," Ron said to Jackson, ignoring Draco's comment. "There you go, Harry -- you know you've made it to Head Auror when he takes you there."

"Ah, but you'd need to tell him about your plans to join the New Zealand Ministry," Draco said, draping an arm around Harry, who shot him a glare. Ginny was raising her drink to her mouth and paused, while Ron and Hermione shared a look, before returning their attention, Ron to Harry and Hermione to Draco. Draco ignored her and continued, unable to stop himself. He was drunk, he hated Jackson, and he hated the thought of drunk Harry with Jackson. "Oh -- I assume you haven't told this lot either?"

"It's just a nice idea that you seem more fixated on than I am," Harry said shortly, trying to step out of the one armed hug Draco had gotten him into. If anything, this made Draco pull him in closer.

"So, what do you think, Weasley?" he asked Ginny. "Is Jackson as dreamy as you'd heard?"

Ginny almost spat out the sip of champagne she had just taken, before raising her eyebrows at Harry. She looked at Jackson and winked, much to Draco's dismay. "I don't know how Harry's getting any work done."

There was a round of sniggers, and Draco watched Harry give Ginny a small smile.

"He's getting work done, Ginny, because Jackson's not his type, is he, Harry?" Draco said, choosing to ignore the way Jackson winked back at Ginny. Draco grabbed Harry's chin, more forcibly than he meant to, and looked at Harry closely. "Is he, Harry? I mean, we all know you usually go for..." He paused, catching his own reflection in Harry's glasses, and frowning. "Well, blonds. In fact some of them could have passed as me..."

He laughed loudly at his sudden realisation, noticing that no one else was laughing, and Harry had shoved him off and into Blaise. He was seething.

"Congratulations, Blaise," Harry said to Blaise, then he stormed out the bar. Jackson waved uncertainly to the group and followed after Harry.

"I think you need a water," Blaise said, leaving Draco with the three Gryffindors who looked ready to rip into him. He shrugged at Blaise's back, avoiding their gaze.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Ron said, and Draco blinked at the harsh tone he hadn't heard directed at him in a very long time. Hermione's eyebrows were narrowed.

"Are you trying to sabotage something that hasn't even begun?" she said slowly, watching Draco sway slightly on the spot. He was starting to feel ill -- he was sure it was the combination of acting like an absolute bastard to Harry, as well as the alcohol.

"Oh please," he scoffed. "Do you really want Harry running off to New Zealand for a _guy_?"

"And what is he meant to do -- run after you until you decide to get married?" Ginny said hotly, clutching her champagne glass rather tightly.

"Harry does not run after me -- we're friends" Draco frowned at her.

Ron scoffed. "Not for very much longer if you don't apologise, and soon."

Draco felt uncomfortable at the three sets of eyes that were currently trained on him, each conveying a very different emotion. Blaise appeared at his side, holding a glass of water, but Draco pushed him aside, striding for the exit. The cold air felt like a slap on his face as he exited the bar, but he couldn't have cared less.

Weasley was right -- he hated the thought that his behaviour tonight could convince Harry that Draco was no longer worth the embarrassment or the effort. He wanted to return to work with Harry as his partner. He also didn't want to think of Jackson comforting Harry, poisoning him against Draco. Knowing full well he shouldn't Apparate anywhere, he hailed a taxi, deciding to return to his apartment to take a sobriety potion, and then apologise to Harry.

He certainly didn't expect Harry to be sitting on the stairs to the lobby of his apartment building. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest, and he looked murderous. Draco closed the door to the taxi, and squared his shoulders, ready to defend himself if need be.

"I know I need to apologise." He sighed, watching Harry's eyebrows narrow further. "But can we please do it inside?"

"I'm only agreeing because it's freezing, I cannot explain how badly I want to hex you, and I'm not explaining why I had to Obliviate Muggles to Robards," Harry said, and Draco couldn't help but flinch slightly at his words. Harry followed Draco silently up the stairs into the lift. He stared at Draco through narrowed eyes, until the lift chimed at Draco's level. Draco let them in, stepping aside for Harry to go in first.

Draco was suddenly aware of the energy coming off Harry, the way his fists were clenching and unclenching. Draco swallowed, unaware that he had pushed Harry to the point where he was _that_ angry, physical violence was an option. He pulled his shoulders back again, hoping that Harry would say what he needed to, accept Draco's apology, and they could move on. He was not ready for the shove that Harry gave him, hurtling him towards a wall. "You completely humiliated me in front of Jackson, you arsehole."

The easiest thing to do in this situation would have been to apologise to Harry, to let him have his say, to talk to it out. But Draco never really seemed to pick the easy way. Nothing was easy when it came to Harry. He shoved Harry back, possibly harder than Harry had shoved him, as Harry looked taken back. At the mention of Jackson's name, Draco's anger flared up, and he couldn't help shove Harry again, this time until his back hit the wall on the opposite side of the hall.

"Completely humiliating you would have involved me disclosing to Jackson just how many off your partners had looked like me, Potter," he snarled, his face dangerously close to Harry's.

The green of Harry's eyes flashed briefly. "Why Malfoy, anyone would think you'd been keeping track," he snarled back, throwing Draco's words back at him. He moved to push Draco away from him, but Draco grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the wall.

"I'm surprised it's taken me so long to notice, really," he said, eyes locking with Harry's, who suddenly faltered. He looked away, and Draco released one of Harry's wrists to grab his cheek again, making him look at Draco again. "I'm flattered, Potter, really."

Harry grabbed at his arm, trying to free his face from Draco's hold, desperate not to look at Draco as he did so. "A mere coincidence, trust me."

Draco laughed, grabbing Harry's wrist and pinning it to the wall once more. "So why the sudden change to brunets, Harry?"

Harry was suddenly smiling ruefully at him, looking up at him through his lashes. "So that's what your problem with Jackson is," he said, and Draco felt his eyebrows narrow. "He's something different, and you can't deal with it. He's not the rookie you were hoping for, is he? No, in fact, he's better."

"Stop it," Draco hissed, pushing Harry into the wall with his body weight, his leg slipping in between Harry's. His grip on Harry's wrists tightened, and he felt Harry tighten his fingers into fists. Harry's cheeks were flushed, his hair mused and glasses lopsided.

"What are you trying to prevent? The fact that we could remain Auror partners, or be something more?" Harry continued, titling his chin up to stare defiantly at Draco. "What is it about Jackson, Draco?"

"He's not right for you!" Draco shouted, slamming Harry's arms above his head and into the wall. Harry arched into him; in what Draco thought was an attempt to push Draco off.

"Then who is?" Harry gasped, and Draco did something he didn't know he wanted to do. He froze, staring at Harry's lips, which were parted, showing gritted teeth. He blamed it on the alcohol, he blamed it on the fact he'd been so distracted from keeping Harry from Jackson that he hadn't had time to deal with his needs -- he kissed Harry. Kissed would have been putting it lightly -- his lips crashed onto Harry's, knocking his glasses even further askew.

Draco was sure his lips would bruise Harry's -- it was angry, clumsy and far from perfect. Their teeth clashed in a battle for dominance in the kiss. A thrill shot down Draco's spine as he bit Harry's full bottom lip.

His teeth pulled on Harry's bottom lip again, this time tracing over the bite with his tongue, demanding entrance into Harry's mouth, persuading his tongue to meet him half way. He could taste the many Scotch and Cokes Harry had drunk earlier, and something that was just Harry. Something that felt right. Something that he wanted more of. Draco's hands shook as he deepened the kiss.

"Yes," Harry hissed as they broke for air. Draco released Harry's wrists to bury his fingers in Harry's hair, capturing his lips once more. Harry's tongue met Draco's, coaxing it to explore Harry's mouth further. Harry arched up against him again, his hands gripping Draco's shoulders. It was then that Draco felt Harry's hardness brush against his own --

He froze, suddenly out of breath. Draco stumbled away from Harry, until he was resting against the wall opposite. Harry looked at him, horrified, and Draco knew he must have mirrored Harry's expression. Neither of them spoke, the silence swallowed them. Draco opened his mouth to say something -- he wasn't sure what he could even say -- but Harry bolted from his hallway, slamming the front door behind him.

* * *

 

Harry could still feel the weight of Draco's body against him, pressed up against the wall, arms pinned to his slide by those long perfect fingers he'd often dreamt about. How often had he wished for what had happened Saturday night? Then to be horrified when it did happen...

He could still taste Draco, could still feel the trace of Draco's tongue on his bottom lip, Draco's hardness as Harry had arched up, desperate for more. He hadn't heard from Draco, and really this wasn't anything out of the ordinary -- they often didn't speak on Sundays -- the only day they spent apart. He had half expected Draco to break the routine -- to talk about what had happened. Harry certainly wanted to know how a man who claimed to be straight had kissed him with no abandon, and so fiercely that Harry could swear his lips were bruised. He'd replayed the scene many times in his mind -- it was on repeat as he tossed and turned in bed Saturday night, and every time he attempted to busy himself throughout the day on Sunday. By Sunday evening however, Harry was starting to set his mind on the fact that perhaps the kiss was a cruel joke on Harry on Draco's behalf -- after all, they had been discussing how most of Harry's past partners resembled Draco in some way.

Harry walked into work the following morning, trying to push aside the nervous feeling in his stomach at the thought of seeing Draco, who was already at his desk, sipping his coffee and tapping his quill against his cheek. Harry bit his lip, remembering how Draco's grey eyes met his, how his body had felt against his.

He took a deep breath and tried to look as normal as possible despite the clenching of his stomach. He noted his usual coffee from Draco on his desk, and he had to smile. He sat down, eyes scanning the many memos that had already collected on his desk. Draco swivelled slowly in his chair so that he was facing Harry. He looked serious, exhausted even. He opened his mouth then promptly shut it again.

"You don't have to talk to me straight away, but please just let me apologise," he said finally, and Harry stopped pulling files out of his bag. He'd expected the 'we need to talk line' but not an apology. Draco had made it clear he had nothing to apologise for.

"I've apologised to Jackson, he seemed to accept it," Draco continued, avoiding Harry's eyes and fiddling with his quill. "Does he grin whilst on a case too?"

"Um... right," Harry said slowly, trying to figure out what he has missing. "We need to talk about what happened after, Draco." He picked up his coffee in attempt to do something other than watch Draco frown and scratch his head.

"What happened after? Did we fight?"

The realisation hit Harry like a ton of bricks. It was an odd mix of relief and utter devastation. He doesn't remember, Harry thought, and almost laughed at the situation. Draco had absolutely no recollection of their kiss. It explained the lack of contact yesterday, the lack of 'Look Potter, I'm straight' declaration. Was this part of the cruel joke -- pretend to forget the kiss only to have it as ammunition? Harry tried to banish the thought -- he liked to think that Draco and he were far beyond their petty adolescent fighting.

"You could say we fought," Harry replied thickly, _with our tongues_. "I saw a different side of you."

Draco groaned, letting his head fall into his arms on his desk. "Don't let me drink spirits ever again."

Harry watched him for a few seconds, and almost started when a grey eye peeked out from under white strands of hair. "Are we okay, though? I feel like there's something unspoken between us."

Harry almost spat his coffee out onto his paperwork. "We're fine," was all he could manage, hoping his voice didn't betray him. Perhaps he could forget the kiss too.

"I actually had a conversation with Jackson this morning," Draco said, straightening up again and pushing his hair out his eyes. "We actually have a lot in common. It seems I have judged him rather harshly."

Harry nodded, watching as Draco collected his thoughts and then some research papers, disappointment creeping up on him to make itself at home in his thoughts, and in his heart. He didn't remember the kiss. At that moment he couldn't have cared less about Draco and Jackson finding some common ground. He wanted that kiss acknowledged; he wanted to feel it again.

"There you are," Jackson's voice said, his shadow falling over Harry's desk. He was holding a folder out to Harry. "We're on a case again."

Harry hoped he was right when he saw Draco stiffen, his quill pausing briefly. His eyes met Draco's, who quickly looked back down at his research. Harry accepted the case file from Jackson with a smile.

"When do we leave?" Harry asked, watching Jackson flop onto his chair.

"As soon as Robards organises some accommodation," Jackson's grin grew wider. "He said we might have to share a tent."

Some papers under Draco's elbow flew off the desk and scattered as his elbow slipped. He gathered them up hurriedly and Harry have sworn he heard a muttered 'bullshit' from under his desk. What was bullshit, Harry thought to himself angrily, was he was the only participant in an amazing kiss who could remember it.  
??  
"Robards wants to see you about it, as soon as you're ready," Jackson said to Harry, but even he seemed to be looking at Draco with some curiosity. Harry made sure he looked presentable, and stood up to make his way over.

"I'll let him know I'm more than happy to share a tent with you," Harry said, making a point to brush past the back of Jackson's chair, placing a hand on his shoulder as he passed by. He threw a quick look over his shoulder to catch Jackson's grin and wink, and to see Draco watching him through narrowed eyes, sipping his coffee. Harry shuddered when he saw Draco's tongue swipe across his bottom lip, catching a drop of coffee. _Bastard_

* * *

 

"So how did the case go? I'm not sure if I even miss field work, you know."

It was Saturday afternoon, and Hermione and Ron had stopped by Grimmauld Place for afternoon tea after a shopping trip in Diagon Alley. Kreacher had prepared fat fruit scones, accompanied with fresh whipped cream and strawberries, much to Ron's pleasure. He hadn't seen Ron and Hermione since last Saturday night -- since the kiss.

The case had been exhausting, and pointless, with he and Jackson following up incident reports of anti-Muggle propaganda, break ins and vandalism. They'd only gotten home late last night, after having to meet Robards to fill him in. He felt a stab of disappointment at the thought of not spending his Friday night with Draco -- but he was also not sure how to act around the man. He'd never known Draco to ever forget details of the night before -- especially a huge detail such as kissing another man.

"Pointless," Harry said, accepting a sleeping Rose from Hermione, and holding her tightly to his chest. "Perhaps I should consider Head Auror after all. Then I can send you out to do these pointless cases instead of me."

Ron scoffed, helping himself to his second score. "Not bloody likely. Just send Draco."

"Gladly," Harry said, perhaps a little bit angrier than he meant too. Hermione's hand paused briefly as she reached for the sugar bowl.

"I take it you two haven't kissed and made up?" Ron sniggered, before biting into half a scone laden with thick cream. Harry's own hand paused as he reached for his mug. He hoped the sudden flush he felt creeping up his neck would go unnoticed. He decided that perhaps forgetting the incident might be for the better.

"He was being a complete arse about Jackson, and the nerve of him telling me what I can and can't do with my life, and my career, like he's my -- "

"Boyfriend?" Ron said, mouth full of scone. He swallowed and fought a grin, and Harry rolled his eyes, feeling Hermione's gave on him as she watched Harry's whispered rant with an amused smile.

"He's probably just feeling threatened, Harry." Hermione said, clutching her mug of tea to her chest. "Out of everyone they could have replaced him with, they found someone who is obviously very good at what he does, and who appears to be very similar to you."

Harry swallowed his retort as Rose stirred in his arms and opted for washing it down with some tea, rather than voice his opinion of what it was Draco was feeling.

"The Masters program is also very demanding. Penrose is very particular in how things are researched and presented. I'm not trying to make excuses for the way he acted, but perhaps you just need to give him some space until he's finished?"

Ron snorted, licking some cream off his fingers. "And don't forget the last time you chose someone else over his friendship, Harry. Jealous git."

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled at this, knowing it was a moment in Draco's life he liked to forget happened. Rose clutched tightly at his finger.

"You two have been living in each other's pockets for a while," Hermione said, eyeing him over her cup of steaming tea. "You spend all week together, and all weekend too. You attend events together, you leave them together. Anyone would think it was a relationship..."

Ron snorted at this and Harry was tempted to chuck a scone at his head.

"We don't spend all weekend together, we don't see each other Sundays," Harry muttered, and Hermione raised her free hand defensively.

"I just don't think it's healthy behaviour for two grown men, one of which claims to be straight. You never spent nearly as much time with Ron as you do Draco. I think Jackson is going to be good for more than just your career, Harry."

"Claims to be strait, indeed," Ron said, reaching for yet another scone. "Have you ever wondered about Draco?"

Harry laughed loudly at this, and instantly regretted that as Rose's blue eyes blinked open. He looked up at Ron, who was buttering his scone, sharing a look with a smirking Hermione. "You aren't suggesting Draco is secretly gay, are you?"

Harry's heart fluttered at the thought, the crazy side of him hoping that this could be true. He had kissed him after all. And forgotten about it, the rational Harry snorted at him. Rational Harry knew very well that soon Draco would run out of reasons as to why he couldn't be married just yet. If anything, it was Harry who was the one pretending what they had was more than friendship. The kiss certainly wasn't helping that, either. He hadn't wanted to spend his weekends with anyone but Draco because he simply felt he didn't need too. He desperately wanted to like Jackson -- he was attractive, he was a family man, he took his work seriously. He often found excuses to touch Harry subtly, and flirted shamelessly and it was easy to flirt back with him. He just wasn't Draco.

A hand on his arm darted him out of his thoughts and he saw Hermione staring at him, a knowing smile on her face. She reached for Rose, who was blinking sleepily and yawning. They finished their tea and chattered about Rose, the other Weasley's and some gossip about former schoolmates.

"So, what are your plans for tonight, mate?" Ron said, waggling his eyebrows in a similar fashion to the way Draco waggled his eyebrows whenever they joked about Harry's love life. He usually spent Saturday nights with Draco, getting ridiculously drunk in front of the telly, or going out to dinner, or sometimes even going out with Pansy and Blaise. He hadn't heard from Draco since he had left for his case on Monday, and wasn't actually too sure he wanted to see him. The kiss would be all he would be able to think about, and no doubt he'd stare at Draco more than he usually did. Instead, he had taken Jackson up on his offer to watch a Muggle Rugby match in which New Zealand were playing on the telly tonight, with pizza and cider.

"Jackson's coming over." Harry said, avoiding Hermione's gaze. He looked up to expect to find a smug smile on her face, but her smile was soft.

"Good," She said simply. A tapping at the window drew their attention and Harry noticed Draco's eagle owl standing on the window ledge.

"Now that's weird -- mention Jackson's coming over and Malfoy's owl turns up." Ron said through a smirk, watching Harry get up to let the owl deliver his note. Harry shot him a look and unravelled the tightly rolled parchment.

 

> _I'm assuming you made it back from the case alive?_
> 
> _I was wondering if I may please use that ridiculously good library of yours? I'm just owling to be polite -- I'm sure Kreacher would let me in regardless of what you said._  
>  _\-- D._

"He wants to use the library, is all," Harry said, tossing the note into the hearth. Ron rolled his eyes, and began to stand, noticing Hermione gather their things.

"Right," Ron said, steering Rose's pram towards Hermione. "Have fun getting to know all things New Zealand tonight."

"Ron," Hermione warned, giving him a look. Harry laughed loudly however, ignoring the fact that he hadn't felt excited about his upcoming evening until he knew Draco was going to stop by to use the library.

"I'm glad to see Draco taking his study leave seriously," Hermione said, placing Rose into the pram and tucking her in. She stood and looked Harry in the eye. "I think I know what you're thinking. Don't let Draco stop you exploring other avenues. He will soon be married, I know it, and he will have a whole new set of commitments. Why should you be the one to be left behind?"

It was a thought Harry really didn't like.

* * *

_I'll make sure I make myself scarce so you and Kreacher can have some quality time together. Floo yourself in whenever._

_Harry_

Draco smiled at Harry's reply, glad he would be able to hopefully find some other resources to help with a particularly hard question he had posed himself. He ignored the voice at the back of his mind that voiced perhaps he was more happy with the thought that Harry didn't have plans with anyone else.

He'd spent the day doing very little of his research and thesis. He'd spent the week doing much of the same, staring at Harry's desk occasionally, wondering how the case was going. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that the staring had been day dreaming -- mostly of Harry's lips, the way he felt pinned underneath his body, the way he had gasped at Draco's kiss. Draco almost dropped his tea cup at the thought of the kiss again. He had worked hard to forget it and hoped he had convinced Harry that he had absolutely no recollection of it -- therefore, it didn't happen.

But it did, and Draco didn't know what this meant. Was he gay? He had kissed another man before -- but he had been insanely drunk, as he was that Saturday night, and was able to forget it quite easily. It certainly hadn't been mind blowing enough for him to question his sexuality, or do it again anytime soon. It was easy being straight; it was expected of him to be straight.

He hoped he had been convincing enough to Harry, but he still couldn't shake the thought of the kiss being something unspoken between them. This made him worried, and anxious to be on speaking...no, normal terms with him again. Blaise and Pansy were good fun, and fine friends, but Harry's friendship, their partnership, was almost his life. Who was Jackson to come in and change this? Perhaps this was why he had kissed Harry -- he could compete with Jackson in nearly everything, expect the fact that Jackson was openly gay.

Seven thirty had eventually rolled around, and Draco decided that seemed late enough and not make him appear too eager to use Harry's inherited library. Pulling a thin jumper over his casual t-shirt, Draco stopped suddenly when checking his appearance as to wonder why -- it was only Harry. Shaking his head he made his way to his Fireplace, and Floo-ed directly to Grimmauld Place's library.

Usually, when Draco had used the Black family's library, Harry had made sure the lights were on, and that Kreacher was there, waiting and willing to help Draco in anyway he could. Harry would usually be sitting on the desk, flipping through some book with disinterest, until he saw Draco Floo through.

Draco emerged in the Fireplace and stepped out to find a dark library, with certainly no Harry and no Kreacher around. Reaching for his wand, a muttered spell revealed Draco to be alone indeed, with the grand doors to the library shut. Draco frowned, feeling out of place again. Harry had probably gotten sick of waiting for Draco to suck up his pride and show his face, and gone out. He was about to turn around and Floo back home, when he heard loud laughter from downstairs. And it wasn't just Harry's he heard.

Draco felt that surge of anger again, curious but also annoyed as to who Harry was spending his Saturday night with. Praying to Merlin that it was Weasley, but knowing very well it would be Jackson, Draco marched downstairs to see himself be replaced with his own eyes. He followed the laughter to Harry's living room, where he could hear the Muggle contraption shouting frantically, with whistles blowing, and crowds cheering.

"Ow, Jackson, seriously --"

Harry was laughing, and gasping for breath. Draco felt his frown deepen, and then suddenly heard a loud thud.

"And that's a tackle," Jackson laughed, Harry joining in. Draco stepped into the living room and cleared his throat, eyebrows arched in Harry's direction. Harry's grin froze in place, and Draco could see him still. Jackson, however, waved, removing his hands from around Harry's slim waist. Draco found his eyes drawn to the milky skin that was exposed, then quickly averted his gaze to Jackson's amused expression.

"Hey Draco," Jackson said, good naturedly, moving off Harry and standing up, holding out a hand to help Harry up off the floor. Harry accepted the hand offered, and then began brushing dust off his jeans.

"Draco," he said, grabbing the Muggle Contraption's remote and turning the volume down, and the awkwardness in the room up a few levels. Draco swallowed. He couldn't understand why he was frozen to the spot, why his throat was constricting, and why he could hear his heart thudding in his ears. "Did you grab what you needed?"

Not trusting himself to speak, and Jackson's stupid smug expression as he settled back into the couch giving him all the encouragement he needed, Draco spun on his heel and marched down the hall towards the front door. Although he had tried hard to forget it, he couldn't help but feel what Jackson had just felt -- the feeling of Harry's slim, hard body underneath his. The way he had made Harry gasp and arch up against him.

He could hear Harry's bare feet pad after him on the floorboards but he ignored the calls of his name and wrenched open the front door. He had to leave before he let slip to Harry that he remembered very well that the only thing they had fought with after their row was their tongues not fists.

A hand grabbed his wrist before he could march down the steps and onto the street. He whirled around to find angry green eyes searching into his.

"What is wrong with you?" Harry demanded. Draco wrenched his arm away from Harry's grip.

"What is wrong with me? How about what is wrong with you?" Draco sneered, unable to stop himself responding in anger. "I don't think having sex with your partner is what Robards meant when he said Jackson would be in good hands, Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed further. He looked over his shoulder then slammed his front door shut. "That is not what is going on, and if it was the case, why are you so bothered by it? You are meant to be on study leave. Jackson is my partner for the next two weeks, I thought you had accepted this?"

"Exactly, Potter, your Auror partner." Draco snapped, moving up a step on the landing so that he was on Harry's level, and he looked down to meet Harry's eye, using his height over Harry as an advantage. "Perhaps I should let Robards know just how unprofessional you two are being. What exactly happened on that case, Potter? Were you just continuing tonight what you started last week?"

"I don't understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. "I'm merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you."

"It's not me though, is it?" Draco all but shouted, unable to stop himself. He had no idea it came from. He tried telling himself that he was just stressed from his Masters, that Harry _was_ being unprofessional. Harry was flaunting his new, perfect partner in his face.

"I don't see how that's my fault! I didn't do this -- _you_ are on study leave. I'm sorry Jackson's not the rookie you were so hoping for, but I like him. I'm allowed to have other friends, Draco." Harry was seething, fingers clenching and unclenching by his side.

"I don't think friendship is what he has in mind, Potter." Draco said angrily, his turn in crossing his arms over his chest. He wanted to Disapparate out of this situation, to get away from this mess. What was he doing? Why did this seem like a de ja vu?

"Why is that bothering you?" Harry cried. "I'm gay, he's gay -- we have things in common. I'm not going to let you bollocks this up for me when you can just for- when you're to be married as soon as you've finished your Masters. And where will that leave me?"

"You're just going to let him waltz in and plant these stupid ideas about an exchange program -- distract you from what you really want --" Draco was very well aware of the fact that he was ranting, that they were shouting at each other in the middle of Harry's street, that no doubt Jackson, and Harry's neighbours, could hear every word.

"Yes," Harry said, voice quiet but firm. "He is distracting me from what I really want."

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, chests heaving and eyes flashing. Harry then pinched his eyes shut, pushing his hair back and making it stand even more on end

"What do you mean by that?" Draco asked, taking a few steps closer to Harry, who retreated backwards.

"I'll talk to you on Monday. This stupid argument has gone on long enough, and I have company."

Before Draco knew what he was doing, he had slammed Harry up against the front door of Grimmauld Place, hands in the collar of Harry's shirt, his knee wedged in between Harry's neck, his face dangerously close to Harry's. "Yes." He seethed, watching Harry's eyes narrow. "Have fun in New Zealand tonight --oh no, of course, you're the bottom aren't you?"

Harry's green eyes flashed, then narrowed into slits. Draco suddenly froze, remembering all to well the last time he had Harry in this position and what had followed... and what was likely to follow again. His eyes fell to Harry's lips, and their eyes met, Harry's gaze hardening as Draco let go off him as if burnt, and Disapparated away.

Draco ripped his jumper over his head as he found himself in his living room, throwing it onto a couch as he made his way to the kitchen. Wrenching a cabinet door open and shoving many bottles of red aside, he found the bottle of Vodka he'd been looking for and screwed the cap off angrily. Harry's words were ringing in his ears, and Draco took a long swig of the liquid that burned on its way down. He slid down the cabinet doors until he landed on the floor, afraid of the feelings that were surfacing.

Flashes of the milky white skin of Harry's stomach swam before his eyes, and was followed by another sloppy shot of vodka from the bottle. Harry's laughter, caused by another man, rang in his ears. Harry leaning close to Jackson at The Heritage, his hand on the small of Jackson's back as he led him out of the Auror Department.

Taking a long swig from the bottle of which Draco struggled to swallow, Draco tried to swallow a certain thought with it. He was acting this way because it wasn't his friendship, and Auror partnership that was his life -- Harry was his life.

He dropped the bottle of Vodka, not caring that it toppled and spilt all over the tiles. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop the thoughts of Harry and Jackson fucking flashing before his eyes. He hated to admit it -- he wasn't jealous of Jackson's friendship with Harry, he was jealous that Jackson could be so much more than Harry's friend. That perhaps Draco _did_ want that, perhaps he always had done?

But Harry was right -- Draco was to be married as soon as the excuses as to way it had to wait ran out. It was easy being straight because that's what his parents expected him to be, what Harry and everyone else expected him to be. He hadn't settled down because technically he already had with Harry. Harry, who had put him first above all others for the last three years. Harry, who dropped what he was doing to do whatever Draco wanted, ordered whatever Draco wanted to make him happy... Harry, who he couldn't wait to see every Monday morning after not seeing each other for one day of the week, being Sunday. Harry, who he couldn't imagine settling down with anyone, let alone someone like Jackson, because they weren't right for him. Harry, who would break his heart, really, if Draco stopped being first, after years of fighting for his attention -- of being nothing.

Draco pulled his knees into his chest and lowered his head, hiccupping. This was not the time to be questioning his sexuality, not when there was an unfinished thesis sitting on his desk. He reached for the bottle of vodka again.

He didn't know how long he sat there on his kitchen floor, until a crack of Apparation startled him. His neck snapped up to find Harry standing at the entrance of his kitchen, positively seething.

"I don't remember inviting you in, Potter," Draco said, pushing himself off the floor and leaning against his kitchen counter, bottle in hand. Harry eyed the bottle before returning his blazing green eyes back on Draco. "I believe it's my turn to tell you to fuck off."

"You remember the kiss, you bastard, I know you do," he said, taking a few steps towards Draco.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said, throwing his vodka bottle in the sink and turning so that his back was to Harry. He pinched his eyes shut, hoping Harry would get frustrated enough to just leave it alone, to just leave Draco's apartment.

"You're telling me you don't remember pressing me up against the wall in your hallway, pinning me down-"

Draco whirled around so that he was face to face with Harry, who was smirking. "We fought," he said shortly. "You said so yourself. I'll gladly punch you in the face again if you don't leave."

All this made Harry do was step closer to him. "We can't keep doing this Draco -- you fly off the handle after seeing Jackson and I-"

"Stop," Draco warned, brushing past Harry to leave his kitchen and get away from Harry and the images that had started to replay in his mind. "I've already told you I don't know what you're talking about --"

"Then I'll just have to remind you," Harry said, grabbing his wrist and pulling Draco to his chest. Draco could feel Harry's chest heaving, and he was sure Harry would be able to feel his heart thudding in his own. Their eyes met, and Draco's breath was taken from him, escaping from his mouth in a moan. He grabbed Harry's face, closing the distance between them, his lips descending on Harry's. His tongue traced a line over Harry's lips, desperately searching for that tongue that had plagued his dreams, his every thought, since he'd last kissed Harry. Harry sighed into the kiss, allowing Draco's tongue to meet his.

Egged on by the fact that his body was responding to this kiss in a way that it had never done for anyone else, Draco moved one hand to the back of Harry's head, his fingers grasping Harry's soft black hair. He pushed one hand up Harry's shirt, letting his hand rest on the small of his back, nails raking over the milky white skin he couldn't get out of his mind. Harry groaned, breaking the kiss and pushing Draco back slightly to look him in the eye.

"I knew you remembered the kiss," he gasped, as Draco tentatively tongued the shell of his ear.

"I couldn't forget it," Draco admitted, to find Harry's lips on his again. He kissed Harry back deeply, pushing him towards the kitchen table, so that Harry was sitting on the edge, his legs wrapped loosely around Draco.

Harry allowed Draco to push his jumper up his chest, and Draco couldn't help but kiss and nip at his hard chest, finally tasting that milky white skin that tasted as good as it looked. He raked his nails down Harry's side, loving the way Harry's back arched.

"We need to talk about this," Harry gasped, burying his fingers in Draco's hair as Draco continued his ministrations.

"I think we're doing a rather good job at not talking about it, Harry," Draco said, pausing his nipping only briefly before continuing. He could feel Harry's fingers leave his hair, and then felt two hands on his shoulders, trying to push him off.

"I just -- you're straight, Draco, I don't understand -- I need to understand --"

Harry's words had the same effect on him as a bucket of cold water and he detached himself from Harry, and turned away from him, so he didn't have to see the hurt expression that had found it's way onto Harry's face.

"You're right, I am straight," he said shakily. He felt stupid saying it -- he hadn't looked at another witch since Jackson had arrived, and he was thinking about Harry in a way that certainly did not make him straight. Harry was suddenly in front of him, hurt expression replaced by anger.

"Then what is this?" He was gesturing between them, at their rumbled clothing, red lips, and most importantly, the fact that they were both undeniably hard. "Is this just you trying make sure I don't leave you behind, that you have one up on Jackson -"

"This is nothing," Draco snapped. "I'm not gay, Harry, I'm not interested in men."

Harry laughed, but it was without any humour. "You seem to be doing a pretty good job of pinning me against walls and kissing me, for someone who isn't interested in men, or have you forgotten that I am one?"

Draco pinched his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't forgotten, but he didn't think of it that way. He thought of Harry as just Harry -- and he couldn't even explain why all he wanted to do was claim Harry for his own. "And have you forgotten who I am? We're just caught up in a moment, Potter, and I'm glad it didn't go further -- perhaps it's best you go."

He tried to ignore the way his heart was thudding in his chest, and the way he throat constricted at the look that flashed across Harry's face.

"Perhaps it is." He said finally, give Draco one last look before Disapparating out of his flat

* * *

 

To say that Harry was angry with Draco would have been an understatement. He was furious with him. He wanted to hex the man as badly as he wanted to have his lips, his hands, his body, back on him again.

All he could think about was the way Draco would dominate him, possess him, ravish him -- to then throw it back in his face. His words had run through Harry's mind continuously ... "And have you forgotten who I am?"

He tried to come to conclusion that he needed time away from Draco -- which he needed to pretend none of this had ever happened. He could only hope that when Jackson left next week, things would go back to normal. But how could they? The only reason why Harry had survived this last week was because Draco hadn't shown up to the Office. Half of Harry was relived, the other devastated. Jackson seemed relieved at Draco's absence as well, as he was able to flirt with Harry without Draco around to cause a spectacular scene.

It was finally Friday, and Harry had his head in his arms on his desk, willing his migraine to bugger off. He could sense someone standing over him and he hoped to Merlin it wasn't Robards or Kingsley.

A cup of coffee was sat down next to head, as well as a paper bag. Harry looked up to see Hermione standing over him, smiling, and a cup of coffee in her own hand. He smiled warmly back at her, grabbing the coffee and peering into the bag.

"You're a godsend," he said, grabbing the fat muffin out of the bag. She pulled Draco's chair next to Harry's and took a seat.

"Is there a reason why Robards has let Draco use my Office for the remainder of his leave?" She said, setting her cup down and fixing Harry with a look that made him uncomfortable. He hadn't told anyone what had happened between them, although Jackson seemed to have an idea. "He was positively delightful this morning, too."

Harry sat his muffin back on the bag, suddenly loosing his appetite.

"What's happened between the two of you, I thought you'd worked things out?" She said, dropping her voice and leaning closer to Harry. Harry threw his glasses off onto his desk, rubbing his face, his migraine nagging at him again. When he looked back up, he knew he wouldn't be able to escape without telling her. And so he did, leaving out a few details here and there.

She grabbed his hand when he'd finished and gave him a look that was a mixture of what Harry assumed was concern and anger.

"What an idiot," She said hotly, startling a first year Auror who was passing by. Harry leant back into his seat, knowing she meant Draco, but he couldn't help feeling like one as well. "How can he -- I don't even-"

She frowned, seemingly unable to form her thoughts into a sentence. Harry sighed.

"It makes me want to join Jackson in New Zealand even more," Harry said, fiddling with a discarded quill on his desk.

"You can't just run away from this situation from Draco, Harry," Hermione replied, eyes flickering over to Jackson's empty desk briefly. He was glad Jackson had left earlier to Firecall Stockinger back in New Zealand. "No matter how tempting it seems."

"I'm not running away from anything," Harry said shortly. "I'm not ready to be Head Auror here, and what's wrong with a change?"

"Not ready to be Head Auror? You were born ready! I know you think that if you went to New Zealand Draco will fly into a jealous rage again and kiss you, or whatever it is you're doing, but he might not. And then what?" She said, voice stern.

"It has nothing to do with Draco -- it's my career I'm thinking about," Harry muttered, avoided her gaze and mentally scolding himself about how pathetic he sounded.

"Do you have feelings for Jackson, Harry?" She said, an eyebrow arched. "I hate to side with Draco but he really isn't your type."

"And what is?" Harry shot back defensively. "Someone who can only kiss me when he's angry that another man is interested in me? You said so yourself that I shouldn't be sitting around waiting for him."

"It's obvious Draco feels something for you, Harry, he just needs time -"

Hermione stopped suddenly, seeing Jackson walking towards them. He grinned at them and Harry smiled back, wishing he felt the same way for the man who seemed interested in him in the same why he cared for Draco -- who obviously was too cowardly to face his feelings -- or it was just a sick joke to him.

"Stockinger wants to know when you're coming to New Zealand, Harry," he said, slapping Harry on the back, and he noticed his touch lingered. "He needs to make sure he has enough red carpets."

Hermione was watching the exchange between them, and then looked back at Harry, her eyebrow still arched.

"I just have to talk to Robards," Harry said, avoided her gaze, and trying to mirror Jackson's grin. He heard Hermione make an irritated sound and pick up her coffee cup, shooting him a look before stalking in the direction of her Office.

* * *

 

"You're not your usual self today."

Draco was darted out of his daydream by Pansy, who had a wine glass in one hand, cigarette in the other, watching him. He shook the lingering image of Harry arching up against him aside and grabbed his own wine glass.

"Just thinking about my thesis," he murmured, reaching for his own cigarette packet.

Pansy merely raised an eyebrow at him and took a drag of her cigarette. "I'm surprised you aren't spending the day with Potter. Lover's spat?"

The cigarette that Draco had been about to light fell out of his mouth and onto his lap. He glared at her to find her smirking, looking pleased with herself.

"We aren't seeing eye to eye at the moment, no," he said shortly.

"It was only a matter of time, really," She said, picking at imaginary dirt on her robe. At Draco's arching eyebrow she continued, reaching over to light his cigarette for him. "Did you really expect Harry to just sit and wait for you to make your mind up?"

Draco coughed violently on the smoke that was just entering his throat. "Excuse me?" He rasped.

"Oh please," She said, rolling her eyes. "You two had the hottest non-relationship I've ever seen."

"What are you on about? I'm stra--"

"Straight, yes, so you've said." Pansy all but scoffed at him. "Yet the word around town is that you haven't romanced a witch in three weeks, and Granger tells me you've been hiding from Potter in her office."

"What?" Draco seethed. "I am not hiding, from anything or anyone, and since when do you talk to Granger?"

"Since she owled me with something very interesting news," Pansy replied, stubbing out her cigarette and leaning forward, closer to Draco, arms crossed tightly across her chest and expression stern. "Twice huh?"

"You bloody women and your gossip," Draco said darkly. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. I merely moved for the peace and quiet."

Pansy didn't look convinced, but rather dropped her voice and reaching for his hand, which he wrenched away. "It is possible to like both genders, Draco."

"Stop it," he hissed, startled the waiter who had come outside to check if they need anything. "I don't like both genders. I just -"

Couldn't stop thinking about Harry. Couldn't stop missing him. Couldn't stop dreaming about what might've happened on his kitchen table if this stupid issue of sexuality hadn't come up. Sighing at the look Pansy was giving him, he gave up being angry at her obvious concern. He hadn't spoken to anyone in a week, and had in fact been hiding from Potter in Granger's Office while she was on leave. The good that had come from that was that he'd finished a draft of his thesis, and submitted it in to be reviewed.

"I don't think of other men sexually," Draco said quietly, casting a quick look around. "I appreciate a handsome man-" Draco ignored the pointed look Pansy had given him and continued, "It's only Harry that I've only ever wanted to..."

Draco trailed off, gesturing with his hand for what he meant.

"Fuck?" Pansy supplied. Draco rolled his eyes at how she could be so classy and yet so crass. "Look. You've had a close friendship with Harry that obviously developed into something more somewhere along the track. It took another man interested in Harry for you to realize that perhaps it was more than friendship that the two of you had. Why are you fretting about what this makes you? Why should being whatever you are -- whether it be straight, gay, bisexual -- stop you from what you obviously want? You're a human being, who just so happens to love another human being. End of story."

She finished her speech by finishing the rest of her wine, and sitting back in her seat looking quite pleased with herself. It took Draco a moment to realize his cigarette had almost burnt out to the filter, and he discarded it, almost like the worry over what he was, who he was, with it.

"What are my parents going to say?" He sighed.

"Please," She laughed, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. "Do you really think they've been buying the pathetic excuses as to why you couldn't marry just yet?"

Draco's mouth dropped open, and she grinned. "Besides, I think your mother is quite besotted with Teddy Lupin."

Draco rolled his eyes, and then smiled softly at her, trying to convey his thanks at her for the lunch date that was obviously an intervention of sorts. An effective one at that, he had to admit. She smiled softly back.

"You need to decide what you want, and quickly, however," She said, collecting their wine glasses for refilling. "Potter's no longer an Auror with our Ministry...rumour has it he's off to join New Zealand's."

Draco's stomach plummeted. "He resigned?"

"Had a meeting with Robards yesterday evening, apparently." She said a little airily. "That Jackson fellow is going back to New Zealand Monday for some urgent business, and Potter's going with him. He's having a celebration tonight at some bar...what did Granger say... that new magical bar...Branded? Eight o'clock."

Draco couldn't process all the thoughts and emotions he was suddenly feeling at once. Harry was leaving him -- he had succeeded in pushing him away, pushing him to Jackson, pushed Harry to finally stop waiting for him.

"Just because you might not be Auror partners anymore, doesn't mean you can't be something much more exciting..." Pansy said, sliding his glass back over to him. "Branded. Eight o'clock."

Draco nodded, knowing he had to get Harry back. He was dealing with the concept of change, was starting to welcome it -- and had even considered Penrose's suggestion that he join The Department of Magical Education to help with the Potions curriculum, but Harry moving to New Zealand was too much.

Pansy was right -- he knew he wanted Harry. It had been obvious since he had first kissed Harry that perhaps he harboured feelings for the other man which were more than just friendly. They had practically had a relationship for the past three years -- everyone had seemed to think so, they often joked about it. It was an added bonus that sparks flew for them physically as well.

He was a Malfoy, after all, and when had he ever been denied something he so desperately wanted, needed even?

It took will power that Draco didn't know he had not to Apparate to Grimmauld Place and start to persuade Harry why he shouldn't leave. It also took Pansy not letting him out of her sight, insisting they attend Branded together. Whilst Pansy made herself quite at home and helped herself to Draco's Wine Cabinet, Draco refrained. He needed to show Harry he didn't just want him when drunk -- that he was jealous of Jackson even without alcohol in his system. Pansy had finally let them go at a little past eight. Draco's stomach was in knots, and it helped that Pansy kept a vice-like grip on his arm, keeping him from going anywhere. They found Blaise talking to Ginny, and Pansy steered them over, where Ginny gave him a suspicious look.

"And what are you doing here?" She said.

"Draco has some _hard_ work to do, don't you darling?" Pansy said, scanning the bar for Harry, as Draco tried hard not to rise to the youngest Weasley's bait, or go get a drink. It was when he looked towards the bar that he spotted Harry. Pansy it seemed had spotted him at the same time, and the grip on his arm tightened painfully.  
"Now -- don't blow up the place, don't hex Jackson, and don't insult Harry," She said in his ear. "Think Slytherin when it comes to your persuasion, Draco."

Draco rolled her eyes at her, but his feet felt like lead, unable to take himself over to Harry. He was leaning against the bar, where Jackson was leaning down to talk in his ear. It was Harry's loud laugh, and the way that he and Jackson could almost be kissing if they got any closer to each other, that propelled Draco into action. The fact that Harry looked good enough to take on that bar was just another factor that made his jealously take over. He stormed over stopping right in front of Harry, his arms crossed his chest, eyes narrowed into slits.

"And when were you going to tell me about your recent decision, Potter?" He said, avoiding the confused look Jackson was shooting in his direction. Harry avoided his gaze, swirling the ice around in his drink.

"I don't need to tell you anything, Malfoy," Harry countered, eyes scanning the dance floor.

"I'm your Auror partner, I thought we were friends," he said icily, glad when Jackson moved to leave, but not before squeezing Harry's hand. This just added insult to Draco's injury.

"And nothing more." Harry said, finally turning to look at him coldly. "Friends are usually supportive of one and other's relationships."

He stepped so close to Harry, and so suddenly, he heard Harry's breath hitch. He slid next to Harry's side, finger's resting slightly on Harry's arm. The burn that he could swear he felt when they touched delighted Draco.

"Then maybe we should no longer be friends, Harry." He purred in Harry's ear, feeling him shiver against him.

"I've been thinking the same thing," Harry said, and Draco was pleased to note his reply sounded slightly strangled. Draco placed Harry's drink on the bar, and the fingers that Draco had dancing along Harry's arm laced themselves through Harry's own fingers, and pulled him onto the dance floor. Draco hoped that he could quickly remove that look of scepticism Harry wore with one of pleasure. He pulled Harry to his chest, pleased when Harry didn't fight him.

"Have you been drinking?" Harry said, his yes flickering to Draco's lips, then green eyes met grey.

"Not a drop," Draco replied. "I didn't want anything getting in the way of what I want."

"And what is it that you want?" Harry said slowly, a frown appearing. "I'm not going to be your experiment before you get married. I'm not -"

Draco slid behind Harry, his hands on his slim waist, pulling him closer so that they were Harry's back to Draco's chest.

"I want you," Draco hissed in his ear, rubbing against Harry, delighted when Harry pushed back against him. "It's always been you -- one way or another."

"And yet you've only just decided to do something about it?" Harry shot back, and Draco could feel him trying to get away, trying to turn to face him.

"Not just decided... dreamt about it, agonized about it, thought about it..." He said, pulling Harry closer again, and mouthing a spot just under his ear. "I was right when I said no one was good enough for you. I want to give you something better than anything you've ever had, Harry. I want to take you home, I want to own you, and then I want you to stay."

He placed open mouthed kisses on Harry's exposed neck, that thrill shooting down his spine as Harry groaned. "It's why I asked Robards to move me Harry... how am I meant to write a thesis when all I can think these new, strange, amazing feelings I have for you... about how _right_ it feels to have my fingers in your hair, my hands on your skin, the way you arch up against me...No one has made me feel the way you do..."

"I've been waiting three years for this but..." Harry said, shuddering at Draco's words. "I don't know if you're being serious, if this is just a joke-"

"Why are we still here then? Let me show you how serious I am..."

Draco knew the grin that graced his face was feral as Harry slowly nodded, and he Disapparated away from Branded and into his apartment. Determined not to shove Harry up against a wall, or onto the kitchen table, he Apparated into his bedroom. He was jolted into action at the hungry look in Harry's eye, and grabbed for the other man, his lips crashing onto Harry's in desperate need. Draco pushed Harry's blazer off his shoulders, before pushing Harry closer to his bed, and desperately trying to get Harry out of his clothes. Their clothes were quickly thrown off, both men desperate to touch, to feel, to taste.

Draco, for however confident he looked and felt, knew that there was going to be a moment when he didn't know what he was doing. He knew how it worked, between two men, and Harry had gotten drunk enough at one time or another to share details with him -- but this was different. He placed open mouthed kisses along Harry's chest, pleased when Harry arched into him as he tongued a nipple. He reached down in between them, touching Harry lightly, teasingly at first. Harry's eyes fluttered closed, his mouth falling open as Draco's ministrations grew harder, and faster.

Draco wasn't surprised when Harry flipped them over after many minutes of teasing touches, of strokes that threatened to undo each other, open mouthed kisses on each other's skin that scent their pulses racing. He felt drunk, and couldn't believe what he was feeling was real -- that what was happening between the two of them was real. It was as if something else was possessing him, taking control of his actions, helping him own and make love to the man he'd possibly loved for longer than he'd known. He groaned as he felt Harry rub oil on his fingers, and as he grabbed Draco's hand to guide it towards his entrance. Draco used his free hand to grab the back of Harry's next, bringing his mouth to his and claiming it in a bruising kiss. Draco was suddenly enveloped in a heat that he'd never felt before, and cried out, throwing his head back. Harry began to move, clutching at Draco's shoulders, mouthing at his neck. Draco captured Harry's lips again. "Worth the wait?" He moaned into Harry's mouth.

Draco grabbed Harry's hips, clutching them so hard he was sure Harry would have bruises for days.

"You have no idea."

Draco woke with a start Sunday morning, very aware that he was naked, and that he was sharing a bed with another very naked someone. Last night's activity flashed before his eyes, and he groaned, looking down at the head on his chest to see sleepy green eyes blink up at him.

Harry sat up suddenly, and stared down at their naked bodies. "It really happened."

"It did," Draco said, stretching. They stared at each other for several minutes, both unsure as to what to say, unsure as to if words were really needed. The sight of Harry in his bed was enough to push Draco over the edge again, to make sure Harry never left it -- never left him.

"So...you're definitely not straight, then," Harry said, a small smile playing on his lips. Draco rolled his eyes, whacking at his arm half-heartedly.

"Apparently not," he replied, a smile of his own threatening to show. "It's about time we slept together, really. We've only had a three year celibate relationship."

Harry laughed loudly, then settled back against the black leather of Draco's headboard. "Seriously though... for you --what does this - "

"Don't label it," Draco said hurriedly, cutting him off and sitting up to look Harry in the eye. "I know it's a lot... I know all I've ever claimed to be was straight... but I want you -- not because you're a man, but because you're you... and I'm... one human being wanting another."

Harry smiled and he looked down at his hands, fiddling with the chunky chain of his wrist watch. He was avoiding Draco's eyes, and Draco knew that there were many things they needed to talk about, many apologies Draco needed to give Harry.

"If we need to talk about anything it's your resignation and your decision to move to New Zealand with that prat." Draco said, leaning back against the headboard and staring at the painting on the bedroom wall opposite them, desperate to avoid Harry's eye.

"What?" Harry said, sounding genuinely confused. "What resignation?"

Draco's looked over at Harry with an eyebrow arched. "Pansy said you are no longer an Auror."

Draco did not like the laughter that had escaped from Harry, or the way Harry had almost slithered over so that he was sitting in Draco's lap, pinning him to the spot.

"I am no longer an Auror, Draco," Harry muttered, licking the shell of Draco's ear and making him shudder. "In fact, I'm your boss."

Draco gripped Harry's wrists to stop them from wandering over his chest, and distracting him from processing that thought. "W-what?"

"Robards resigned yesterday," Harry said, shifting his weight in Draco's lap in a way Draco decided he definitely liked. "I accepted the position. _Jackson_ is going back to New Zealand to begin the transition into his position as Head Auror."

Draco grinned, deciding that a lapful of Harry, and news that Jackson had finally left their lives, was an amazing way to start the day. He bought Harry's head down to his to kiss his lips softly. "Well, congratulations then, boss."

Harry broke their kiss to grin at Draco. "You can come work on your thesis in my new office."

"I'm going to work on more than just my thesis in your new office, Potter." Draco said, biting Harry's exposed collarbone. "Just promise me something."

Harry titled his neck back as Draco's tongue traced a line from his collarbone to his chin. "What's that?" He gasped.

"No Firecalls to New Zealand unsupervised, and absolutely no wine from New Zealand in my cabinet."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are graciously received! 
> 
> On Tumblr! [Here](https://mischieviolet.tumblr.com/)


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